


you idiot

by goodcliche



Series: one shots [3]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 04:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodcliche/pseuds/goodcliche
Summary: scott has one more surprise left at the end of a show. mitch, unlike the rest of the band, hasn't got a clue.





	you idiot

****"Thank you!" Mitch blew a kiss to the crowd, bowing. He had a huge smile on his face, and the roaring crowd fuelled his energy despite having just done a 1.5 hour long show. The ends of shows were always a little bittersweet. He was high on adrenaline, excited about the successful show, sad that the ninety minutes had flown by so quick as they always did, but distantly feeling the exhaustion in both his voice and body from performing almost non-stop for so long.

"Paris you were amazing!"

"We'll be back soon! We loved your energy tonight!"

Mitch looked around to his fellow bandmates, his best friends, to see them all with the same big smiles taking over their faces. He waved at the crowd, yelling another "I love you, Paris!", before starting to walk to the side of the stage to leave.

"Actually," Scott's voice rang through the cheering arena. Mitch halted, snapping his head around to where Scott had been standing, except that he wasn't standing there anymore. "We have one more surprise for you."

Mitch didn't know what the surprise was.

He looked to Kevin, who was standing a little to his left, the direction he had been walking in, but Kevin only held his hands up in a shrug as to say "I don't know what's happening either, man." Which meant it definitely wasn't something Mitch had missed during a meeting or them discussing the setlist. Or anything that had been brought to the group. Because Mitch always paid attention. Okay, maybe not _always,_ but Kevin _did._

From how Kevin looked away quickly and started singing along with Scott, and apparently Kirstin and Matt too, however, Kevin sure as hell knew what was happening. And Mitch couldn't be more lost. Had he really missed something of this importance? He tried catching Scott's eye, but he avoided his gaze. At first, Mitch didn't recognise the song the four were singing, and he just chuckled into the microphone, barely being able to resist making a comment about being confused to the audience.

That was, until he realised that the reason he hadn't recognised the song was because they had switched parts. He recognised the lyrics _now_ , and debated whether he was supposed to jump in or not. They hadn't discussed putting Can't Help Falling In Love on the setlist, had they? He was scared he'd missed something. That they were doing an extra song tonight for reasons known to him. But that almost couldn't be, because Scott was singing Mitch's part.

Mitch had laid his eyes on Scott as if he were prey, following his every move, and even jumping a little when he took a step forward and opened his eyes. He wanted to know what the fuck was happening, but no one was meeting his eyes. Not even Esther and Nicole. Not even what seemed to be the whole crew, who were watching from the side. _Why_ were they watching from the side?

"Uhh," he eventually brought out, letting out a little laugh. Yes Mitch, really intelligent, professional response. It was ignored but for a few laughs in the audience, and where usually it would have annoyed him, he couldn't bring up anything other than confusion, curiosity, and a little awe for how angel-like Scott was looking with the one spotlight following him.

Wait. White spotlight? When had _that_ happened? He blinked, and wondered how he could have missed the spotlight focusing on Scott. It must have been a gradual change, the spotlight slowly taking form and focusing on his blond angel, leaving the rest of the stage in a dimmer light, barely visible.

"Darling, so it goes." Scott had started walking towards him, and honestly? Mitch didn't know what to do. All he found himself being _able_ to do was stare at Scott in complete awe, his eyes softening and his lips mouthing along the words, though not making any sound.

"Some things are meant to be." Some things really were, Mitch thought as he stared up to Scott. They were almost standing chest to chest, and Mitch couldn't help the smile of pure adoration from tugging at his lips. He had the urge to reach out, to wrap his arms around Scott's waist and sway here with him in what seemed to be a magical moment. But all he did was stare at Scott with slightly parted lips tugging into a dimpled smile.

His hunger for any form of contact was met as Scott let his fingers trail down from his elbow to his hand and, while singing "Take my hand," slowly threading his fingers through Mitch's.

The next line their gazes locked, and Mitch felt bashful all of sudden, breaking their eye contact and looking down, instead letting his gaze travel over their intertwined hands and to the points of his shoes. His arm was lightly tugged on, and as his four band members- though forgive him for pretty much only noticing Scott- continued to sing the song he usually played the most prominent part in, and he was guided towards the catwalk, walking next to and slightly behind Scott.

He felt weird. Surreal. He blinked slowly, placing his feet carefully in front of one another, scared that he would trip if he wasn't paying enough attention but also not caring. It felt like he was floating. The full arena was almost completely silent, or Mitch had just blocked their sound out. He didn't really know and he didn't really care and he mostly felt like he was dreaming.

But he wasn't. He knew that. Even if he hadn't pinched himself yet to check for sure. If he was, it was a pleasant dream. But he wasn't dreaming. It felt too real for that. It didn't feel _real,_ but it didn't feel real in a way that magical moments never truly seemed to feel real.

He turned the tiny ring that was around his middle finger. He'd been wearing it for almost two months now. The metal was cool against his skin, and he smiled a little before focusing his eyes back on Scott's back and their intertwined fingers.

-

_"Mitchy?"_

_"Hmm?" he hummed, perfectly content with spending their early morning lazing around. He had his head rested on Scott's chest, his eyes fluttering shut every few seconds, and his pointer finger trailing up and down the inside of Scott's arm._

_"Do you still have that one ring? The tiny one?"_

_He looked up at Scott, lifting his head to be able to do so. "Yeah," his voice still raspy._

_"Will you start wearing it when you're ready?" Scott's words were tender, barely a whisper, holding a sign of nerves for which was no reason. He felt him swallow once, saw his eyes flicker over his face. Mitch smiled at him._

_"Of course. Just not yet. But I will. That's a smart idea."_

_A smile spread over Scott's lips at his words, lighting up his entire face and making Mitch smile because seeing Scott smile was infectious. He couldn't resist pressing his lips to Scott's for a quick second, before laying his head back down on Scott's shoulder, a content smile on his face._

_He wasn't ready, not yet and probably not for a while, but when he was, he would._

_-_

They halted, and Mitch let out a small breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. His right hand was still in Scott's as he turned him a 45 degrees, standing to face him. All while continuing to sing, all while a white spotlight shone down on the two of them.

It all felt a little like slow motion to Mitch. He could see the light playing with Scott's hair, could see the dust particles swirling around, and he yet again came to the conclusion that Scott _had_ to be an angel. It wouldn't surprise him if wings would appear behind Scott. It almost would surprise him if they didn't.

"Take my hand." Except Scott's actions contradicted his words. He let his hand slip from Mitch's. The latter chased them for a split second to no success, dropping his hand to his side.

And suddenly Mitch wasn't looking up to Scott anymore. They were eye-level first, before Mitch had to look down. "Take my whole life, too." He sank to one of his knees slowly, never breaking their eye contact.

_Oh._

It made sense now. It all clicked in his head. How no one had wanted to meet his eyes when the song started. How he had been the only one making moves to leave the stage. How pretty much the whole crew was watching from backstage. How Scott had acted nervous and slightly off before the show. How Kirstin and Scott had huddled into a corner and shooed him away during the minute or two before they had to get back on stage. How Scott had distantly pressed a kiss to his forehead when walked the stairs to get back on stage but hadn't mentioned why he and Kirstin had been huddled together.

How Scott had walked him close to the edge of the catwalk. How he was singing "But I can't help falling in love with you" now.

Mitch gasped, taking in a sharp breath upon realising all of this. And as Scott put his microphone on the ground, soft hums from their band members slowly dying away, he covered his mouth with his hand. His own microphone dropped from his hands to the ground with a loud thud, but he didn't notice, for all he heard was how Scott breathed his name. Spoke it carefully as if it was something sacred and precious to be protected and worshipped forever and ever.

"Mitch." The sound was still loud, but Mitch didn't know if that was because there was a microphone he hadn't noticed close to them, or because it was all he could focus on and his ears were drumming and he could feel the blood pulsing through them. "I could never get close to how stunning you sound on this song, but it's so true; I really _can't_ help falling in love with you.

I don't know when I fell in love with you. I don't think I can pinpoint the exact moment, I don't even know if I can pinpoint the moment I realised I head over heels for you. Maybe I fell in love with you at the young age of ten already, that wouldn't surprise me." There was this tight feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain. Something that felt like pure love, pure awe and adoration.

He bit back a sob, noticing that now there were tears blurring his vision and that he was shaking a little, hands clasped over his open mouth. He wanted the tears to go away, he didn't want his vision to blur. He wanted to take in this moment the best he could, but he couldn't find it in himself to move his arms and wipe the tears away. It was as if he was petrified, had turned into a human statue.

"Mitchy, my love, you've been there for it all. We've gone through everything you can possibly go through. From breakups to small falling outs to comforting one another after breakups and to nights that were never spoken another word of. We've travelled the world together, and I plan on going to so much more places we haven't seen yet. We've made name for ourselves, gone on to chase our dreams and so much beyond those. I'm so proud of you. Always will be.

Every morning that I wake up next to you I have to almost pinch myself. It seems a bit surreal still, that the boy I met at only ten years old would go on to be the love of my life. That after everything it was, in the end, always gonna be you. It seemed to good to be true. A little too cliche for me to believe, even. The whole being in love with your best friend since childhood thing. But it's reality. It's the truth, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

There's a lot more to say, but when I tried to write a decent speech, I found that finding the words to express my immense love for you was impossible. Which means I'm trying to keep this short, even if only because that means I get to kiss you and hold you in my arms sooner. You're so beautiful, and you don't even always notice. Right now you have your hands clasped over your mouth and your eyes are wide and I can see tears on your face and you're still _so fucking beautiful._

Mitch, it was always gonna be you. So please, would you do me the favour of making me the happiest man on this earth? Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi, will you marry me?"

He realised now that Scott was crying too, and shaking a little. A second of silent passed when he finished his speech, and then Mitch's hands unclasped and he started nodding feverishly, repeatedly saying "Yes", "Of course I will", and "I love you". He dropped his hands and grasped Scott's face with them, pulling him up and pressing his lips to his.

He had to stand on his tiptoes, and even then Scott's knees were bend and Mitch's head was tilted upwards only for him to barely reach Scott's lips. Scott, on his turn, had wrapped his arms around Mitch's waist, pulling him as close to him as possible. The small jewelry box containing the engagement ring was in his hand still, and his hold on it was tight.

Mitch broke their kiss apart for a moment, muttering another broken "I love you" and letting his hands travel from Scott's cheeks to his shoulders and loosely hanging them over his shoulders, crossing behind Scott's neck at his wrists, before traveling up to hold on to strands of blond hair not a second later, kissing him again. "You idiot," he sniffled. "You fucking _idiot_ , proposing _on stage_."

He pressed a kiss to Scott's lips, his breathing hitching and tears running over his face. He had to squint to get a good look at Scott, and even then his vision was blurry. The blond made a sound like a combination between a sniffle and a chuckle, before muttering an "I love you" back.

They were both crying as Mitch let his hands sink down to Scott's chest, and the taller let go of Mitch's waist to put his hands in between them. Mitch stood back down on his feet rather than his tiptoes, which meant he had to glance up a little more than before to see Scott's face. Not that he was looking at Scott's face now, though. Rather at his shaking hands fumbling with the jewelry box, taking out the ring and shaking slightly as he reached for Mitch's hand.

And then suddenly there was an engagement ring with a huge diamond on Mitch's ring finger but he wasn't even looking at the ring anymore, for Scott was more important to him than any piece of jewelry could ever be. After all, the ring symbolised his love for Scott, a promise. But with Scott here, he much preferred looking at him and pressing his lips to his jaw and resting his face against his chest, staining it with tears.

He kept muttering a combination of "I love you"'s and "you idiot", until Scott laughed and tilted his head up from where it had been resting atop of Mitch's. It caused the brunet to laugh, too, and he wiped away some tears with the palm of his hand, looking up at Scott. Scott, whose pretty ocean eyes were muddled with tears, looking like a storm had just passed but the sun was now shining, for there was an undeniable sparkle in them. Who had a matching watery smile on his face and who was holding Mitch as if he was the most important thing in the world. Which, to Scott, he probably was.

He had to look away from him then, even if it was because he would burst into another fit of sobs at how Scott was looking at him as if he was the most important thing in the world. He turned his head a little, but upon looking at the cheering crowd that proved to be too much too, and he let out a broken laugh before burying his face in Scott's chest, his head turned towards the stage. His chest was filled with pure happiness, and despite it being a lot, it only seemed to make him lighter. He squeezed with his arms once and closed his eyes again, a huge smile on his face.

They stood like that for what could have been hours, days, but was probably barely two minutes, before Mitch felt another pair of arms slip around them and a smaller body pressing against his side. He opened his eyes to see Kirstin pressing her face against both his and Scott's side, and another laugh erupted from the now engaged couple. She squeezed once, before laughing with them and letting them go.

"I'm so happy for you two," she whispered, wiping away a tear of her own with the back of her hand.

Mitch wanted to tell her that he was too, but he didn't find the breath to actually speak without choking up, so he just flailed a little with his arms and had a huge smile on his face trying to not break out in tears again, not knowing how to express himself.

They walked back to the main part of the stage, hugging and receiving congratulations from Kevin and Matt, back off the stage where they got engulfed with hugs and screams and more tears, cheers surrounding them and their hands ever linked. It all felt surreal. It all seemed to pass in no time, the total opposite of their shared hug on stage. Whereas this had probably taken at least twenty minutes and it felt like only two, that moment on stage- public yet intimate, had felt like a thousand years despite lasting only a couple minutes.

When they finally broke apart from all hectics to change into something comfier before heading back to the hotel, they had Esther stand by the ajar door of their changing room because for _some reason_ they didn't trust them enough to just get changed quickly. It was understandable though, as they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. It was all innocent, just sneaky touches, light as a feather. The need to feel contact the whole time.

But they lingered, and Kirstin and Esther had no doubt that, were they to be left alone, those light as a feather touches would quickly progress to something less innocent real quick. And the nightmare of finding the two in the process of undressing, the nightmare of walking in on them making out or being about to walk in and tell them they had to hurry up but hear sounds that made it _very_ clear anything but that night's show was on their mind had been lived already. Yes, they just got engaged. And yes, they were allowed to celebrate whatever way they wanted, and both the women definitely understood the contact they were craving at the moment, but that didn't mean the dressing room was the location to go.

They emerged, a couple minutes later, glued to each other's side, hands clasped tight in one another, in far comfier clothes than their stage clothes. It was a given that, when the other three band members were about to go outside and meet some fans that have probably been waiting, Scott and Mitch were heading back to their hotel. Esther had already made sure someone could drive them back, and while they loved meeting fans after shows, the thought didn't even cross their minds as a reasonable option tonight.

Mitch still only had eye for the blond angel by his side, not leaving him. Not as they slithered their way through the crew, not as they walked outside, Mitch walking behind Scott with his head down due to the sudden amount of cameras at the door (how had they gotten there? _why?_ ), but with a huge smile tugging on his lips and his eyes upwards so he could still look at him. He waved at a small group of screaming fans he saw in the corner of his eye, not moving his head or eyes even a little.

It probably lasted no longer than seven seconds, going from inside to getting into the back of the car, but Mitch was happy enough to sit down. Those seven seconds had been filled with screaming fans and flashing cameras and photographers, and it was one of those rare moments in which Mitch truly felt like he was famous. He didn't like it all that much, but there was Scott. Scott, Scott, Scott, and their intertwined hands and Scott pressing a kiss to his jaw and playing with the engagement ring Mitch had barely looked at, and- _Scott. S_ o he didn't really think about those seven seconds.

Their driver was silent, the car ride quick- or maybe it wasn't quick but just felt quick because Mitch was both high on love (adrenaline, most likely, but being high on love sounded better and maybe more accurate too) and could feel the tiredness in his every bone-, Scott kept fumbling with Mitch's fingers, turning the new engagement ring round and round, and Mitch had a slightly delirious smile on his face as he leaned against Scott and allowed him to press kisses to his cheek and jaw and the side of his head.

He also felt a bit like bursting into tears again.

Their phones, dinging with incoming notifications on every possible social platform, buzzing with calls from family and friends trying to reach them, went ignored and turned off. They would have time for that later. Not now, as they were walking through the halls of the hotel. But tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or when tour was over. Maybe in a week it would have calmed down. Although it was probably wise to personally inform their own family and closest friends before going radio silent again.

The elevator passed the floor their room was on, but it didn't stop, and Mitch looked at Scott with his brows furrowed. Instead of an answer, the blond just pressed another kiss to the top of his head and squeezed his hand. It was enough for Mitch to close his eyes and let the same smile of pure happiness overtake his face, to let his brain empty except for Scott. Scott, Scott, _Scott._

They got out on the wrong floor, but Scott persisted on walking through the hall anyway, and Mitch didn't have much of a choice.

"Mitchy?"

"Hm?" He turned his head a little to look at Scott.

"Can you close your eyes for a moment?"

"As long as you make sure I don't bump into anything."

He closed his eyes, and for a couple seconds there was nothing but Scott's slightly heeled boots making a clacking sound on the marble hotel floor, of the beep coming from a keycard and a door being opened, the elevator going down with another "ding!", and then eventually Scott's hands on his shoulders. They squeezed a little, and Mitch could feel Scott's breath against the back of his head, could feel his body warmth from behind him.

"Okay, now walk forwards- okay no you can walk a liiitle quicker," Scott poked in his back, making him jump and let out a screech. He only relaxed when he felt both of Scott's shoulders back on his shoulders, where they couldn't poke him again. "Okay. Now, stand still. Yes, good. Keep your eyes closed for just a little longer."

Scott's hands disappeared from his shoulders once more, and he heard a beep, a click, and then what he assumed was a door in front of him being opened. "Okay," his hands were back on Mitch's shoulders again, "two steps more, aaaaand open!"

He opened his eyes. A gasp escaped his mouth. His jaw dropped open. He stood as if in shock, taking the scene in front of him.

He was standing in the doorway of a _gorgeous_ suite. He could look outside to the city of Paris, the whole wall in front of him consisting of a huge three panel window. The floor was covered with soft white carpet, a big, extremely comfy looking. There was a bed to his right and a door to what he supposed was a bathroom to his left. There was a simple but classy drawer next to a sleek black desk, both with silver mirroring accents. A chair with a red blanket draped across and a round mirror above the desk completed that image. A wooden closet stood on the other side of the bed, opposite to the desk. A tall mirror stood in the corner, of the window and the far right wall, leaning back a little. And there were rose petals. So many rose petals his eyes kept drifting to and from them, following their nonexistent pattern, how they were adorned over the bed, covering the floor. So many rose petals he could see them everywhere, but they weren't overwhelming. They were everywhere in a subtle way.

It was the second time that night tears sprang to his eyes and he choked up, a lump forming in his throat. His eyes kept darting around the room, and he turned his head so he could face Scott, who was standing beside him, a soft smile on his face as he watched his _fiancé._

"Scott..." he whispered.

His hands slowly went up to cover his mouth, his eyes wide in shock. His head was clouded, covered completely with pink fluff from cloud nine. Mitch didn't know what to think, other than 'ohmygodohmygodohmygod' and 'but I don't have anything in return' and 'wow, that bed looks _good_ ' and most of all 'Scott, Scott, Scott, Scott, _Scott_ '.

"You're so _cliche_." Was what he eventually said, putting out his arms and wrapping them around Scott. He buried his face in Scott's chest, who tried his best not to laugh at his comment.

"You love the clichés, though."

"Hm, I'm not above a _good_ cliche, Scott. This being the most cliche thing you've ever done doesn't mean it isn't _good_."

"Good," the blond murmured, a smile tugging at his lips as if there wasn't already one. "Can we skip forward to the cliche of making love in a bed with clean white sheets adorned with rose petals, then?"

Mitch rolled his eyes in response, but he wasn't really annoyed. It was sweet, and he didn't mind Scott's thousand cliches. Not tonight. Or at least not yet. So he let himself be pulled towards the bed, where Scott's lips immediately found his, and Scott's hands settled on his hips, pressing him against the bed. He wrapped his own arms around Scott's neck, hopping up on the bed and shuffling backwards, dragging Scott with him. He was kinda glad he was wearing shoes that he could just kick off right away, because it allowed him to actually get on the bed properly.

If felt a bit like being chased, but in a good way. Crawling back towards the middle of the bed with one elbow to steady him and Scott's hands slipping from his waist to steady himself on the bed, following Mitch while trying to keep their lips connected the whole time but failing when he wanted to follow completely. Mitch hand snapped loose from where it had been pulling Scott along by the back of his head, and he watched as Scott untied his boots. His breath was a little unsteady, his eyes a bit hooded, and he allowed for himself to get a bit more comfortable on the bed while Scott was busy.

It wasn't long before he was back, though, his hands now on the small of Mitch's back, holding him as he connected their lips in a fever. The kiss was deep, but it wasn't messy. Mitch wasn't even sure if he would classify it as making out. Making out was sloppier. This was deeper, more sensual, and he felt himself being pulled closer to Scott with every small movement. He could almost feel himself melting (if he actually would, there would at least be one more cliche to add to the ongoing list they seemed to be writing).

They were lying down, and Scott's hands had moved from Mitch's back to undoing his belt and gently putting it to the side. Every movement, every touch was gentle. There was no need for rushing now, no need for anything but sweet smiles and caring, lingering touches.

They were half under the sheets now, and the only piece of clothing that hadn't been shedded yet was Mitch's plain white shirt. Scott was having too much fun dragging kisses along the collar, pushing it down and seeing how far down Mitch's chest he could place a kiss. He was having too much fun in holding the fabric in his hands while he ran them up Mitch's sides, making him shiver.

The shirt was shed eventually, and they were lying on their sides now. Legs entwined, arms wrapped around each other, holding on and softly brushing over skin all the same. Heads were thrown back, backs arched, and desperate gasps were met with lips, swallowed in breathless kisses. It was like a dance, a form of art. Mitch had Scott's hair gripped in one of his hands as the blonde made a trail of hickeys starting from behind his ear down to hick neck, along his collarbones, down to his chest and eventually his hips.

Kisses on his inner thighs made Mitch arch his back again, his bangs sweaty of his forehead and Scott's name on the tip of his tongue. He whined and sighed, trashing a little against Scott forcing his hips down, but relaxing when the blond started a trail of featherlight kisses up his chest to eventually kiss him breathless again.

Kisses were interrupted for air, but more so to make place for smiles or little laughs, to look one another in the eye and look away for a moment with a blush. They were interrupted for "I love you's", for Mitch telling Scott again and again that he was an idiot for proposing on _stage_ , in _Paris,_ while singing _Can't Help Falling In Love_ , and for Scott to laugh at that and run his fingers over Mitch's hip bones out of pure adoration, the skin soft beneath his touch.

Touches faltered and lingered, fingers running over every piece of skin they could reach, gripping legs or shoulders to hold on to something- anything. Open mouthed kisses were pressed against shoulders, paired with gasps, with broken names or whines, with whimpers and beautiful sighs of pleasure. They held one another close, toes curling and fingertips scratching.

And this? This was pure love. It was simple, gentle, and lingering. Kisses were deep, eyes were closed and opened, gazes locked, smiles shared, and fingers drawing small circles even when used to grip onto one another. It consisted of those soft touches and shy smiles, of wonder in both their eyes, of lungs burning and wanting to be as close to each other as possible and even then wanting to be closer. It wasn't fancy. It was simple, natural. It was pure, pure love.

Mitch could feel it in every inch of his body, he could feel it aching for Scott's touch. He could feel his heart bursting, could feel the butterflies in his stomach rioting like everyone always described (yes, those were two more cliches to add to their list, shut up).

-

"Scott?"

"Hm?"

"You're still an idiot."

Scott laughed, and pulled his fiancé a little close to him, even though that wasn't really possible. It was a little past two in the morning, and they were both getting sleepy, eyes shutting closed ever so often, but they didn't want to fall asleep just yet. Lying under the covers, just looking at one another, trading a couple sweet kisses and running fingers over smooth skin was what they wanted for now.

They had made love, shared a long, warm shower, slow danced around the hotel room naked, sat staring out of the window, looking over Paris, kissed, shared some chocolates, Scott had spun Mitch around by his fingertips, the smaller on his toes to make a perfect pirouette before continuing their dance. They had been silent for moments on end, only for it to break by a whispered "I love you", or light conversation. They had laughed thinking about whatever everyone must have been thinking when Scott proposed on stage, how fans must have reacted and how the media was probably already making up complex theories about how the proposal was staged for attention for their tour. (Which would be dumb, since they only had one more show to go on this tour, and then had a three week long break before touring Asia.)

"You _are_ ," he insisted. "But you're _my_ idiot."

It went silent for a little again, and they both let their gaze drift over the other's features, through the room, along the creases of the white sheets. Let their eyes follow an untraceable pattern of rose petals, let their fingertips draw circle upon circle on the other's skin.

"Scott?"

"Hm?"

Mitch let his left arm slip back from where it had been resting over Scott's side, from where his hand had been going up and down his back, following his spine with his pointer finger and going back up again. He was looking up at the blond, a little bit of a shy smile on his lips. He let his gaze drop, his cheeks redden a little, and played with his fingers that were- as of now- resting on Scott's shoulder. Holding it but not quite so.

"The ring's gorgeous. I didn't tell you yet, but it is." He wiggled his fingers one by one, his eyes focusing on the brand new engagement ring. There was a huge diamond on it, but not one that was too big for the band. It was _perfect_. It fit with his tattoos like it was meant for only him, and matched with other rings he tended to wear on his left hand. It was shiny, but not _too_ bright that it was distracting. "It's perfect."

He looked back at Scott, tearing his eyes away from the ring. It was distracting now that he had looked at it longer. He wanted to admire its beauty some more, but Scott's face was more beautiful than that ring could ever be- and that was saying _a lot._ Especially the shy smile that had now seemed to jump from Mitch to Scott was beautiful. It was adorable how Scott didn't completely met his eyes at first, and how, when he did, his cheeks reddened and he bit on his lip a little, pure wonder in his blue eyes.

"You think so?" He whispered.

They had been whispering before, too, but something about Scott's whisper now made Mitch's entire chest feel like it was being lit up from within. You know the feeling, the one where it feels like your heart is sinking into your chest, but in a good way. The butterfly feeling, if you will, but also a little more than that. Maybe it was the obvious bashfulness he was displaying, how his voice went up a little and he genuinely sounded surprised yet thankful. How it was a bit hoarse from singing a show and crying and talking so much the past few hours.  He loved it. He loved _him._

"Yeah," he matched with the same, slightly hoarse tone, "just as perfect as you."

He nuzzled his head a bit more against Scott's chest, enjoying the bit of pressure Scott's head was pressing down with on his own. It made him feel secured, made him feel safe. He closed his eyes, but didn't sleep yet. Didn't want to yet. But he liked lying like this with Scott half lulling him to sleep with gentle touches and soft whispers, with kisses pressed to the top of his head and a thumb running over over the little dip beneath his hairline in a soothing pattern.

Eventually he must have fallen asleep, because the next time he opened his eyes bright light was shining through the windows of which they had never closed the curtains. They had loved their view of Paris by night too much to cut any of it off, staring at it as they had lain on the bed, admiring the once-in-a-lifetime view.

His body was still entangled with Scott's like it had been when he had fallen asleep before, and he had to admit his muscles felt a little bit sore from it. He didn't mind, though. He loved being held and holding Scott through the night, safely tucked away against his chest with a smile on his lips.

There were hands running up and down the side of his body slowly, from just underneath his butt to his neck, where they joined a second hand in his hair for a little, only to follow the same line down again. Mitch sighed at the touch, stirred a little, before disentangling his legs with Scott and stretching.

"Hey." He was met with Scott's morning voice, which broke a little and had the same hoarse whisper like his voice had had in the middle of the night.

Mitch looked up at him, closing his eyes again but smiling and tangling his legs together with Scott's again. He was torn between closing his eyes again and try and sleep some more, or open them and start the day. He knew there was barely any chance he would actually be getting to sleep again, but not yet fully opening his eyes was a safe middle-road.

"Hey," he returned.

He stretched his arms behind Scott's back, before letting his right lie underneath Scott, where it had been the whole night, and his left in between them so that his hand was resting on Scott's shoulder again. He turned his hand over, let the sunlight catch on the diamond and make small little rainbows appear when moved. He smiled, shifting his gaze from the ring to Scott, whose eyes had been focused on the ring too.

"Goodmorning." He tilted his head up a little to meet Scott's pouting lips and press a kiss to them, after which he sighed and rested his head back on the pillow, staring up at his _fiancé_ with sleepy eyes.

"Time's it?" Mitch mumbled, slurring together his t's and rubbing at his eyes to get the sleep out of them.

"'round eleven." Scott swiped away Mitch's bangs, looking at him in pure adoration. "Sleep well, princess?"

"Hmm, ye-" Mitch yawned, "-eah."

They lay there, waking up, for a couple minutes. A couple minutes of not yet focused enough nor awake enough to talk or kiss or get up. A couple minutes of shifting their positions a little but not too much or too quickly. With smiles and slow blinks and fingers walking over skin.

"Oh," Scott exclaimed. Not quite a gasp but not a soft whisper either.

Mitch was looking at how his hand was placed at Scott's shoulder, how his fingers were tracing the gorgeous flowers of his sleeve and how his engagement ring made rainbows appear out of thin air, following his movement. He had a smile on his lips, but was still in that dream-like state after just waking up. He looked up at Scott with a questioning look on his face, raising one eyebrow a little as to make Scott further explain what he was so 'oh' about.

"That'd make a pretty picture. Wait, I think my phone's on your side. We could, like, take a picture and post that, give the fans and the media something as sort of a confirmation even though it was obvious enough last night."

Mitch hummed in agreement, before slinging his arm back, patting the bed for Scott's discarded phone. When finally found, he handed it to the blond and settled his hand and arm back into the position from before. He rested his head against Scott's chest, and let a smile overtake his face.

Because how could he not smile? Scott had _proposed_ to him last night, _on stage_ while singing _Can't Help Falling In Love_ , looking and sounding like an absolute angel, in _Paris_ , and they were currently lying in a king sized bed with white sheets and rose petals, in a room that overlooked the whole city and with sunshine filtering through the windows. He pressed a kiss to Scott's chest, and it didn't take long for him to grip onto Scott's shoulder and stretch his neck a little so he could press a kiss to the side of Scott's mouth, too. A quick kiss was returned a second later, when Scott turned his head away from his phone screen to Mitch's face.

"Mm, love you so much," Scott murmured, letting his arm with phone drop onto the bed, over Mitch's waist.

The latter turned a little so he was almost completely lying on his back, Scott slightly turning with him and hovering above him, propping himself up with his elbow and pressing chaste kisses to Mitch's lips ever so often until the brunet pushed him away, smiling but diverting his attention to Scott's phone.

They scrolled through the pictures Scott had taken. Mitch's eyes were still drooping a little, and he had a content smile on his face, leaning his head against Scott's chest.

"I like that one!" He said at the fifth or so picture. There was a pretty reflection of the diamond in his ring, creating a small rainbow over Scott's chest. A little peek of the white sheets down in the bottom, and Mitch's huge dimpled smile. It was just the side of his face, a dimple and the tiniest corner of his lips that was visible, the picture not going further than his nose. But it was a perfect picture.

So of course Scott opened his instagram and tapped that picture, finger hovering over the keys as he wasn't sure what to caption or even to caption it at all.

"Just put a simple 'x', a lowercase one," Mitch offered. He didn't want Scott to put an elaborate caption about the proposal and his love for Mitch or anything sappy like that, but it needed to be captioned with _something,_ and a simple 'x' was perfect. Not too trashy, tiny, but clear in it's intentions.

The picture was posted seconds later, and Mitch quickly told him to post it on his too, after which the only thing they did was repeat the process on twitter and put on emergency notifications on Scott's phone for his parents, Mitch's parents, and Esther.

They shared a moment of giggles and kept in laughter thinking about the responses they were probably getting by now. Especially since they'd never officially stated they were dating, and enough fans were still in denial about the two of them being a thing, despite them having said "this is it, it's been endgame all along but now we're ready for it" (in slightly different words, or rather with Scott pressing his lips to Mitch's and the latter never backing out, after which it had taken them two months of getting back into the known rhythm of kissing and waking up next to each other before deciding that they were ready now) and it being pretty clear were one to observe the two.

Fans were batshit crazy, and as long as nothing's confirmed (and even sometimes when it was) they'd keep their own ideas about whatever the situation was. They couldn't really blame them all too much on this one, though, since they'd always had periods in which they were more dependent on the other and in which they seemed to be spending all their time side by side.

Actually getting out of bed only happened when Mitch's stomach started grumbling, complaining about not having eaten anything in the past twelve or so hours. Usually he would have spend a lot of time picking out his outfit, but for today he picked the first things he could find, _and_ matched, from one of his suitcases.

They headed out for a late breakfast that also could have qualified as a slightly earlier lunch at a cute Parisian cafe, sipping from their coffees and nibbling from their food on a terrace in the sun, acting like that lovesick couple that couldn't stop holding hands while eating even if it made actually eating a bit more difficult. (Scott's right hand was holding Mitch's gently turning the engagement ring a bit and letting the tip of his fingers run a circle over the diamond.)

They had their waitress take a picture of them, on which they couldn't stop smiling or looking at each other. But that was okay, because they'd just gotten engaged and were in a bubble of pure bliss and happiness.

More pictures were taken after walking through Paris, asking a couple to take pictures of them with the Eiffel Tower on the background. Mitch put his hand on Scott's cheeks in one of those, flaunting the engagement ring as he stood on his tiptoes to kiss his now fiancé. They posed for some more, received congratulations on their engagement, and actually got back good pictures in which they didn't have eye for anyone other than the other and had seemed to forgotten about the camera (which, for a moment, they had).

They strolled around Paris, soaking up the spring air and bright sunshine. They had the biggest smiles on their faces, took more overly cliché pictures, met a couple fans that freaked out but didn't keep them up for too long as they too must have realised Scott and Mitch weren't exactly in a 'meet fans and chat' mood for the day, but rather spend it together.

They visited a couple touristy places, but didn't actually go inside the Louvre or climb the Eiffel Tower. They'd done that before and would get to do that in the future, but time was precious as of now and they weren't about to waste it standing two hours in line to see some paintings.

Returning to the hotel happened way too soon, but they had to travel to Cologne for their last tour stop of this leg and Esther didn't give two fucks about them getting engaged the night before because "If you're not packed and ready by the bus on time, we're leaving without you and you got to figure out how to get to the next hotel on time yourself." They wouldn't leave without them, obviously, but that didn't mean getting there too late wouldn't lead to Esther being extremely pissed off because of them messing up her schedule.

On the tour bus, they were told to seek a room and to keep down the PDA, but it was all said with jokingly smiles and overjoyed tones that while maybe it would be more social to keep the kissing and cuddling a little more limited, nobody _truly_ minded. They received calls from their parents what seemed to be as soon as they had woken up, and they laughed on the phone with them, exchanging content smiles and quick kisses during the calls.

They ignored the other notifications, turning everything off for now, but they had fun scrolling through twitter for a bit. The best part were the tweets live from when Scott had started Can't Help Falling In Love and when he actually got down on one knee. A small part of those live tweets were incomprehensible, short tweets from people actually at the show, and the larger part consisted of replies in the nature of "WDYM SOCTT PROPOSED TO MICTH" and "THEY WHAT" from fans that weren't at the show. There even were multiple shaking live streams and zoomed in pictures.

The knowledge that they had footage of the proposal, from multiple angles (including their own photographer, Esther's video recording from the side, and a professionally filmed clip by a videographer Scott had hired for the occasion, and of course footage from freaking-out-fans), made them smile yet again, made them feel extra grateful. Mitch kept insisting Scott was an idiot for proposing on stage, though.

All together, it was a bunch of cliches packed up in not even twenty-four hours, but it were one of the best twenty-four hours of their lives, if not the best. (Both couldn't really think of a better moment than this right then and there, but going all the way and calling it the best thing ever seemed so determining and final, despite it not really mattering.)

And Mitch, like Scott, really, _really_ couldn't help having fallen completely in love.

 


End file.
